Bring on the hangover. There are few things I hate more than the process of dispelling a hangover. First there is the early morning dehydration. Then there is that awful taste in your mouth that stays with you until the first cup of coffee has been consumed. It doesn’t help when coworkers say you look like death and smell like a bottle of vodka. Don’t forget about the sweats and the shits; both are attractive qualities of a good hangover. I just received a call from Dan. Thankfully my biggest problem is the coffee grinds in my drink. This morning Dan was puking out the window of his truck. Tis the Season!
If I keep stringing together fantastic days like the past two, there should definitely be public recognition of these achievements. Last night started with Dan, Kyle and I doing our best impression of the Friday movie series. Around 7pm we gathered our wits and cruised down Houston Street in search of the illusive Wooster Street. None of us knew exactly where it was but we eventually tripped over it. Unlike past years where the party was in the office, Flavorpill held this year’s holiday party at the AQUOS Project art space just south of Houston. It had a strange feel to it. The space was basically a rectangle with a bunch of flat screen televisions hanging on the wall. They were all playing some synced up graphic art that made me feel like we were secretly in a White Stripes video. There was also a back room that had screens playing PBS of all things. Thankfully there were two different bar options serving all sorts of Absolut and Tiger (yuck) Beer. It had a less personal ambiance, but all the major players were still present.
Upon walking in I was greeted by the always smiling, always loving Sascha. I haven’t seen him forever, which is a goddamn shame, but it always feels good to chat him up. We had a little discussion about my role in Loose Record. Hopefully he’ll be quick to offer guidance since his Flavorpill is known as a reliable name in the arts and music industry. Then I got a much needed huge from David who is one of the greatest, well adjusted kids around. As I worked my way back the room, I ran into Christina and her friend Louise. We discussed the questionable pot smoking policy for the evening. Christina reminded me that last year we were part of the corner crew who camped out in the back of the office the entire party. Then I ran into two very lovely ladies, Jocelyn and Liz. Seeing Jocelyn is always a special treat. We lamented over the fact that we never get to hang out anymore, but hopefully that will change in the near future. Tumbleweed and Lucy were next on the hit list. They were both tossing back drinks in preparation of their third and final night of The Pixies. Lucky bastards.
So I milled about talking to kids I haven’t seen in ages and while giving the eyes to girls I haven’t seen in ages. Ok, so I don’t know how to “give eyes,” but I was on the 2001 U.S. Nation Mingling Team. Dan, Kyle and I were a little upset with the strength of our drinks so we tried the bar in the back which was a beneficial move. Liz was hanging out with our good Pill pal (I’m fucking clever) Nick who writes for the NY Post sports section. Nick is a smart chap, and knowing that he’s a solid writer, I slipped him a card hoping he’ll contribute to Loose Record. He was at the party with his friend Sam who got me wrapped into a long conversation about dog sledding and broken arms. I couldn’t believe he had gone on a trip through Minnesota on a dog sled. A trip like that would absolutely blow my mind.
As the time drew closer to 10pm, Dan, Kyle and I slugged back our drinks, said our goodbyes, grabbed another drink and snuck it outside the party. As we stormed back east, Kyle and Dan were acting completely crazy. A black Cadillac cut us off somewhere around Crosby Street so Dan decided to throw the rest of his drink on the car. They immediate stopped and sat in the right lane for a second so Kyle decided to run up to the window to incite some kind of reaction. They pulled up to a stop light and we crossed. Somewhere around Mulberry Street they cruised by and threw a Pez dispenser at the crew. We shrugged it off and hustled through the cold to Luna Lounge.
As we walked up to the club, we could hear the sonic imperfection that is Walk Humongous. I hustled into the club just in time to hear Pantalones! which is a hilarious track that Max sings in Spanish. Through my drunkenness last night, one lasting thought became clear; the addition of Stevo on guitar was the right move for Walk Humongous. Giving Max the freedom to prance around the stage as if he is the love child of GG Allin and Iggy Pop guarantees an entertaining show. One problem with the gig last night was the vocal mix. Even though the band sounded great, and I mean great, (have you been practicing), Max was often drown out by the bitching rhythms or Stevo’s shredding. They powered through the highly danceable Tommy Was a Dancer and my favorite tune Changing the World with reckless abandon. Kyle and Dan continued to spit beer and throw lemons during their entire set and I believe Colin was responsible for dousing Stevo with a healthy amount of fake blood. Sources tell me there may have been an onstage appearance by yours truly, but we have yet to confirm or deny those claims.
If you missed that show (and I know a lot of you did), you better have a damn good reason because they are only getting better. Soon you’ll beg for guest list spots in the hopes of catching a rare free glimpse at the craziness.
Speaking of crazies, Noah Humongous sent me this email today regarding a tree decorating party out in Windsor Terrace. I recommend you brave the train and hit the outer borough cause it shall rock.
Okay, this is very last minute and everything, I know. Travis, Max and Noah are having a Christmas party tonight (Jews and Gentiles are all invited). We have a real 6 foot tree and it smells great. People are encouraged to bring all the damn people they want. They are encouraged to bring their own decorations for the tree to hang. There will be mistletoe and kissing. You know how everyone loves it when they have an excuse to kiss and not feel slutty. Eggnog and warm hard cider help (yes, warm and hard) will be provided.
Directions to 1521 11th Ave #3: Take the F to 15th Ave (Prospect Park). Walk down hill on either Prospect Park SW or 16th (wherever you walkout of the subway, just walk away from the shops). You'll come to 11th Ave and we are right there. You don't need to buzz or anything, you can just come in.
Happy Holidays,
The S.S. Happiness Crew
Tomorrow night you need to be at the Mercury Lounge. Why? Well, there are about five reasons. The captain put together a bitching Saturday night show that will feature all sorts of up-and-coming New York City Bands. The lineup is as follows:
8pm – We Are Scientists
9pm – Bishop Allen
10pm – Saints and Lovers (formerly The Sons of Sound)
11pm – The Twenty Twos (Soooo hot!)
12pm – The Break-Up
Expect this show to run on time, but if you’re like me, you’ll be there by 8pm. Five straight hours at the Mercury should provide me with a hilarious blog entry, (memory of events pending). I’m super psyched because I’ve yet to see the first two bands and I heart Bishop Allen. Then there is the goodness of Saints and Lovers who you might know better as The Sons of Sound. I can’t wait to see what Dennis has in store for us.
2 Comments:
you're right; i would read that post at some point. i love that you don't believe i'm from canada. ahh, if i only i weren't. toronto winters suck just that little bit worse than ones you guys suffer though. you should ask my ex. she'll vouch for me. speaking of which, your buddy karl is a way cool dude... very nice, very funny. before i go...that's some heavy back and forth between you and the lead singer of fixxxing lion. you two should really rest it cause that banter was getting mean. jamie
i hate when co-workers comment on how shitty you look. it certainly does not help a hangover.
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